Talk about bearding the lion in his den; the young
Japanese conductor Kazuki Yamada is brave to take on Ernest Ansermet’s
orchestra
and his repertoire all at once. Not only that, this
recording – the first in a series devoted to music with theatrical
connections – was made in Geneva’s Victoria Hall, scene
of so many Ansermet/Decca triumphs in the 1950s and 1960s. The OSR wasn’t
a front-rank ensemble in those days – some might say it still
isn’t - but such was the magic of their partnership with the feisty
Ansermet that it hardly mattered.
I wish I could be as complimentary about their more recent recordings
with musical/artistic director Neeme Järvi; I’ve reviewed
the Chandos Studio Masters of them playing
Chabrier
and
Raff,
and while there are things to enjoy Järvi is not the podium powerhouse
he once was. Perhaps under Yamada, their new principal guest conductor,
the OSR might be able to rekindle that old fire; however, sampling Ansermet’s
1958
L’Arlésienne – admittedly not one of
Decca’s best – reminds one just how high the bar has been
set (
review).
PentaTone recordings are known for their technical excellence, and that
– coupled with the cutting-edge recording facilities in the Victoria
Hall – should ensure exemplary sound at least. And so it proves,
for the first suite
Prélude combines admirable precision
with ear-pricking detail. Also, those march rhythms are crisp, if a
tad lacking in
hauteur; even at this stage Yamada strikes me
as meticulous – tentative, even – and that robs the performance
of dynamism and flair. After all this music was written to accompany
a play, and Ansermet - a man of the theatre - had a feel for dramatic
shape and thrust that's hard to beat.
The OSR play very well for Yamada, who certainly has a good ear for
blushful blends and poised
pianissimi. That said there’s
a fastidious quality to the
Adagietto that I don'r care for,
and the pealing horns in
Carillon aren’t as thrilling
as they should be. There are some lovely passages though, just not enough
of them. Indeed, I longed for this conductor to take a few risks, to
loosen the brakes a little, but that’s not his way.
I’ve never found the second suite, arranged by Ernest Guirard,
to be as subtle or as varied as the first, but in Yamada’s hands
the
Pastorale has welcome lift and energy; as for the
Intermezzo
it’s seductively shaped. The
Menuetto is simply ravishing
though, and the harp is ideally placed in the mix. At moments like these
it’s as if one were in the concert hall, entranced at this unfolding
loveliness and wishing it would never end. The
Farandole, which
brings the suite to a close, has all the pulse and push one could wish
for, and while I’d have liked a bit more air around the orchestra
the recording is first class.
Yamada’s Bizet is enjoyable enough – at times it’s
more than that – but his suites left me feeling oddly bereft.
Perhaps it’s a case of sky-high expectations that are almost impossible
to fulfil. His account of Fauré’s
Masques et Bergamasques
- written to accompany a one-act
divertissement - is also well
executed; the nimble woodwinds are particularly impressive. That said,
there’s a creeping anonymity to the performance that’s rather
dispiriting.
On the plus side I did warm to Yamada's way with the ballet music from
Gounod’s
Faust; the Nubian waltz has point and elegance
and the
Adagio is beautifully blended. Sheer loveliness isn’t
enough, for it has to be leavened with touches of life and levitation
if it’s not to seem like a limo ride – supremely comfortable
but ultimately rather dull. Even the
Danse de Phryné
lacks that last degree of energy and excitement. Which brings me to
Nick Barnard’s review of Yamada’s recent Exton disc, which
he characterised as ‘too considered and cautious’ (
review).
That’s my overriding impression here too.
Make no mistake Kazuki Yamada is a man to watch, and despite my misgivings
I look forward to the next instalment in this theatree-themed cycle
(Strauss, Korngold and Schreker). The Qobuz download process is simplicity
itself and their price is slightly lower than that on PentaTone’s
own website. Downloadable artwork and a pdf booklet are included.
Gorgeous playing and a fine recording; alas, the performances lack character.
Dan Morgan
twitter.com/mahlerei
